I nodded, practically vibrating with the desire to hear her answer.
“It’s not really funny like yours. Mine’s my worst shame. I have nightmares about it,” she sighed softly.
I looked down at her, purposefully letting her see my disappointment, and then nearly laughed when she sighed so exaggeratingly.
But what I expected to be funny, was anything but.
I could’ve guessed just about anything would’ve come out of her mouth than what did.
“I’m not my father’s kid,” she whispered darkly.
My mouth dropped open.
“And that’s a shame to you…how?” I wondered.
She bit her lip.
“If I tell you this…you have to promise not to tell anyone, ever,” she ordered fiercely. “You cannot ever tell. If you tell, I’ll probably be disowned by my mother, and I love her so much that I’d probably kill myself.”
I blinked.
“If it’s that big of a deal…” I started. “Then I don’t want to know.”
She waved me off.
“Downy’s father died before I was born…” she started.
I nodded.
I’d heard that in our previous talks.
“Okay,” I circled my finger for her to continue.
She bit her lip.
Then she opened her mouth and said words that I would’ve never expected to come out of her mouth.
“I’m not Downy’s half-sister. I’m his full sister,” she blurted.
I blinked.
“Ummm,” I asked in confusion. “How?”
She got up and ran to her bedroom, then came back a couple minutes later with some documentation in her hands.
“Out of spite, one day when I was eighteen or nineteen,” she started. “I got really mad at Downy, and I was going to prove to him once and for all that we weren’t related.”
I nodded.
“Don’t ask why, I was a kid,” she ordered.
I held up two fingers in a scout’s honor.
She gave me a dirty look that clearly told me she’d fuck me up if I ever thought about telling.
“So I steal some of his hair, and then sent some of my hair in, to have it analyzed.” She handed me the paperwork.
“What’s this?” I asked, looking at the lines, dashes, and percentages.